Eternal Celebration

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  Choma, Southern, Zambia
Monday, September 5, 2011

September 2, 2011

I had a very interesting day. The funeral for Mrs. Anne Marie Malesu (Paul's wife, from VVCC) was today. It was my first Zambian funeral – and actually was quite similar to ones in the states; there’s just much more singing… and wailing… and some traditional burial events that look a little different than how we do it in the States.

Though I’d had a heavy heart since getting the news about Paul’s wife passing, I couldn’t really get a grip on what was going on. I sat in on a bench in the church thinking about silly things like whether I was dressed appropriately and wondering why almost all the women were wearing head wraps. Shortly after the service began, one of the Malesu daughters read a poem written for Mrs. Malesu. I was moved to tears by the beauty she revealed about her mother through the poem. It uncovered the joy, hospitality, and faith the children learned from her in a striking word picture. The profoundness of this death hit me at that moment. This was her mother we are talking about… just like I have my mother. This death really is earth shaking for the family – how could I not have been gripped by this?

It’s hard to admit, but I guess I was under a misconception that told me death here was somehow less traumatic because it is more common. Gosh, that is embarrassing to admit. But on a whole it’s the same everywhere, isn’t it? A mother is a mother. A father is a father… A child… A brother… A sister. No matter where you are on this earth. Our hearts feel an empty space…

Pastor Siamoongwa spoke at the funeral. His message talked about how Mrs. Malesu’s assignment on earth was complete, so God took her home. I loved that description; to me it makes the life of a Christian Zambian wife, mother and school teacher sound like a mission impossible movie. She’d seen highs and lows but remained faithful to the mission – and all those around were witnesses to testify to the fact that she had been a shining example of a good and faithful servant to the cause. This gave me peace. It reminded me how little sting death really has: none. When we are done with our mission we don’t just make up more stuff to do – no, we go back and report to our boss. We go celebrate with our co-workers. We’re happy and feel complete. I imagine Mrs. Malesu in her last moments smiling at the thought of that eternal celebration…

I was reflecting on the sermon as we were singing and pondered the question "Am I living in a way that allows me to say 'Anytime, Lord’ or am I saying ‘Eh, not yet please. I need more time." In other words, how much am I at peace with how my “mission” is going? As I sat amid song after song with vocals that rivaled the ocean waves, I answered the question: Anytime, Lord. I want to see His glory. I want to celebrate with my co-workers. Of course I am thrilled to still be here on earth, livin’ it up but when my time comes, I want to think back to those perfectly harmonized vocals that took me away to such a peaceful place in my mind. I want to say “I’ve done my best with my assignment.”

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